


Sanctuary

by shadowsong26



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin is Trying to be helpful here, Gen, Mortis and Force Ghost shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 00:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12664935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsong26/pseuds/shadowsong26
Summary: Rey wants to find her place in all of this. When she finds a reference to Mortis in one of Luke's books, it seems as good good place as any to start looking…





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written/posted as a Halloween fic on Tumblr. This is the first time I've ever tried writing Rey, so hopefully I did her justice <3
> 
> Thanks for stopping by!
> 
> ~shadowsong

Rey was starting to think that coming here had been a giant waste of time. She’d sort of suspected that from the start—it wasn’t like she had any really  _useful_  information to go on, just one throwaway reference and a set of vague coordinates in one of Master Skywalker’s books. Besides, she was supposed to be learning patience, among other things, but…

She needed answers. About who she was, and where she belonged, and what she was supposed to  _do._  But these were answers that Master Skywalker wouldn’t—or couldn’t—give. And that one throwaway reference— _if I had paid attention on Mortis_ —made it seem like a good place to start.

The planet _had_ been right where the coordinates said it was, but that was when she’d had her first doubts about the whole thing. Granted, she hadn’t actually seen  _that_  many planets from space (outside of holos and simulations), but Mortis probably would have stood out anyway. A hulking shape emerged from the void, one she couldn’t exactly identify; but it looked kind of like two pyramids stacked on one another, that then sort of  _twisted_  and split to show a band of light around what she guessed was the equator as she locked into orbit.

On the other hand, weird as all of that was, it wasn’t like a lot what she’d learned and experienced in the past few weeks, especially where the Force was concerned, made a whole lot  _more_  sense than Mortis did on approach. So she’d shaken off her doubts and made for the light.

But inside, it was—empty.

Rey wasn’t sure exactly what she’d been expecting to find. Something like Ahch-To, maybe, that practically  _breathed_  it was so alive. Or even Takodana, green and welcoming.

Mortis wasn’t like that. Oh, there were growing things here, soft and low to the ground, but most of what she saw was cool grey rock.

(Some of it was even floating in the sky, which—she decided she would figure out what to do with  _that_  later.)

But the planet wasn’t  _dead,_  either. Even if she didn’t count the soft patches of growth, there was a—a—a tingling  _sense_  to the air. Almost like in the depths of the Temple on Ahch-To. Not _alive_  exactly, not like the surface felt, but full of  _echoes,_  like it  _used to be_  alive and could easily be again, if someone opened the right door.

Dormant, maybe?

But she didn’t see or hear any signs of  _people,_  and she was getting a little bit frustrated with trying to find answers in books or carvings or even that one holocron Master Skywalker had let her see. That was why she’d come here in the first place, after all. To find it empty, an apparent dead end…

Still, Mortis may have looked weird from space, but it wasn’t exactly  _small._  Just because the place where she’d landed was deserted didn’t mean the  _rest_  of it would be. So, she’d picked up her staff and a bag of supplies (the lightsaber, which still felt strange and heavy, was clipped onto her belt), picked a direction, and started walking.

That had been four hours ago. And, while she’d found more and more growing things as she hiked, she hadn’t come across any signs this place was still inhabited.

If it ever had been at all.

She was about to give up and head back to her ship when she saw it—a low structure of some kind perched on a hill ahead of her. One that was definitely,  _definitely_  not a natural rock formation. Even on a weird planet like Mortis, she felt she could be sure of that.

She shifted her grip on her staff again and hiked up the hill. Up close, it was even more obvious—the building was small and rectangular, with a round stone door that had been drawn aside and left open.

“Hello?” she called.

No answer.

“Anyone home?” she tried again, poking her head through the door.

The building contained a single room, which was very still, and empty, except for a slab lying diagonally across some sort of depression in the floor.

Rey frowned a little, and drifted closer to the depression. There was something—

There was a dead body.

She had been a woman, and beautiful; older than Rey but not by much, with long green hair. Her hands were folded peacefully across her chest. She couldn’t have been down there more than a day or two. Hadn’t started to mummify or decay yet.

_There_ are _people here. Probably close, if she was just buried…_

Still, she had accidentaly invaded someone’s tomb, someone very newly dead. And while she  _had_  been hoping to find people to answer her questions, this  _maybe_  wasn’t the best way to make contact.

“Looking for something?”

She jumped and spun around, bringing her staff to bear.

There was a young man leaning against one side of the doorway. He was about her age, with shaggy golden hair, and he seemed to…shimmer, almost, in the dim light. The shape of his face was vaguely familiar, too; but she couldn’t quite place it.

Cautiously, she lowered her staff. “Not anything in particular,” she said. “I’m…sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect.” She inched away from the depression and the body.

He shook his head. “I’m not offended, and there’s no one else here right now.”

“Oh,” she said. “Maybe you can help me, then?”

He considered her for a moment. “Sure, why not. I’ll try, anyway.” He turned and headed out the door, gesturing for her to follow. “Let’s head up to the castle, though—more comfortable up there. Besides, it’s going to rain soon.”

“Right,” she said, and followed him. She glanced up at the sky, nonplussed—no clouds; just those weird floating rocks. “You’re sure about the rain?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It rains almost every day here now. I like it. I find it soothing.”

Which was something she really couldn’t understand. Rain was such a weird and _wonderful_ thing, but not exactly what she would call  _soothing_. It drew too much attention, because it was miraculous.

Then again, this  _was_  Mortis. She probably shouldn’t expect the weather to work like it did on any of the other planets she’d seen. Besides, no one else she’d met since leaving home seemed as fascinated by rain as she was.

“I won’t say you get used to it,” the stranger said, sounding amused. “I’m not sure I ever did. But it will stop surprising you after a while, even if it’s still miraculous.”

…all right. Maybe this trip  _wasn’t_  a waste of time after all. If he could hear her thoughts as clearly as that…

“Come on, keep up,” he said, several meters ahead of her now.

She swore under her breath and picked up her pace.

 

* * *

 

The rain he’d promised started just when they reached the castle’s square courtyard. The building itself was tall; taller than any other Rey had ever seen in person, craggy and imposing. Almost like it had  _grown_  from the mountain and was a part of it, rather than being built on top. Especially when it rose out of the gentle mist the rain had brought with it.

Her guide paused for a moment in the entry, tilting his head back as if savoring the sensation.

_…well, even if it doesn’t make sense to_  me, _he wasn’t lying about how he felt._  She could feel the _contentment_ bleeding off of him, like a shelter in the middle of a sandstorm. Like an oasis.

He blinked and turned back to her. “Sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “Come in, please.”

“It’s all right,” she said, smiling tentatively back. Not sure what he was apologizing for.

“I get distracted sometimes,” he explained. “There was a…long time, when I couldn’t do things like that. Feel the rain.” He shook his head, and produced a couple of dried fruits out of one of his pockets and offered her one.

“Thanks,” she said. It was—not quite like home; denser and chewier than anything available on Jakku, and sweeter than she had expected. But it was  _similar._

“Pallies,” he said. “They were…I used to love them, when I was a kid.” He watched her, tossing the other back and forth between his hands—one gloved, one not, she noticed suddenly.

_A lot like Master Skywalker’s hands._

“Anyway, I don’t have that problem anymore. Being cut off like that. Especially here, where I can talk to—people like me.”

She frowned. “I thought you said you were alone here?”

“At the moment,” he said. He sat down on the floor, folding his legs, and gestured for her to do the same. “But I can find just about  _anyone_  in the Force here, even some who can’t manifest outside of Mortis. It’s…part of why I came back here, once I figured out I could. And why I spend so much time here now. I don’t really do well in isolation, anyway.”

Which sort of made sense. The first part, anyway.  _She’d_  never had problems coping with isolation.

Not that she  _liked_  it, of course. She’d spent every day, waiting for it to end. Before BB-8 and Finn had pulled her into the wider galaxy, and she’d…even if she hadn’t found her _family,_ she’d met people who filled up places inside her heart she hadn’t realized were empty.

So maybe she understood all of what he’d said, after all.

“What do you mean, people like you?” she asked, rather than saying so. _Maybe_ he meant the woman in the tomb, but he wasn’t—there was something about the two of them that didn’t exactly  _mesh_  in Rey’s head. Not the way two people who were _like_ one another should.

He looked down at the dried fruit—no, at his gloved hand, flexing it. “Not a lot…not a lot of people come back.” He winced. “Back isn’t the right word. Some things, you don’t really come  _back_ from. You’re too different, afterwards. Better to say…not a lot of people come _through._ There’s me, some of the ancients, Asajj…” He grinned a little. “I talk to her a lot, actually. We’re still not exactly  _friends,_  but there’s something about—we understand each other, in ways that no one else really can. And that’s nice. Having someone who understands, I mean.” His smile faded. “Of course, there’s a lot of things that we wish  _no one_  had to understand like that.”

For some reason, that made her think of Master Skywalker; and another man, another stranger, with reddish hair and shattered blue eyes.

He cleared his throat. “But those are my problems, not yours.” He slipped his fruit back into his pocket and rested his hands on his knees. “So. We’ve gone over why I’m here. Why did you come to Mortis, Rey?”

And, even though he’d actually read her thoughts before, and this was  _Mortis,_  the fact that he knew her name without her telling him surprised her.

Only for a second, though.

“I…” She hesitated, then just--got right to the point. “There’s…there’s so much out there. So much to learn, and to _do,_ and I feel like…I feel like there’s somewhere I’m supposed to be, except I can’t get there. It’s like…it’s like I’m lost in a storm, one of the really bad ones where I can’t even see my hand in front of my face, and the sand is cutting through my clothes.”

He made a face. “Yeah. I know the feeling. But why come  _here?”_

“I thought someone…I thought there might be someone here who could help me, explain,” she said. “I need someone to…to show me my place in all of this. Where I fit. What it all  _means.”_ She wasn’t sure she had the words for more details—the things she’d seen and felt, the way Master Skywalker reacted sometimes…

There was _something there,_ and sometimes she thought she _almost_ grasped at least the edge of it, but…

“Oh, Rey,” he said, and sighed, shoulders sinking a little with the weight of…she didn’t know what. “I’m sorry. I wish…but this is…look, even if you’d come decades ago, before the Ones all died, they all had their own agendas. They would have told you what  _they_  wanted you to be. Which is not at all what you want or need, even if it might have sounded like it was.”

“But if I do have a bigger role,” she started, “if I have a…I have all of this power, and it has to _mean_ something. I can’t just be…”

“I know how you feel,” he said.  _“Believe_  me, I do. But take it from me—destiny is a manipulative karking  _bastard,_  with a truly twisted sense of humor. If there really _is_ somewhere you’re supposed to go, something you’re supposed to do, or become…you _will_ get there, one way or another. But _that’s_  the part that really matters in the end. Whether you pick one way, or the other. The  _road_  you take to your destiny, whatever it might be. So don’t…don’t focus too much on the endpoint. Take each crossroads as it comes, and make the best choice you can when you’re standing there.”

Which made sense, sure. Things weren’t _completely_ set in stone. They couldn’t be. The future was always in motion; she’d been told that over and over again. Otherwise, why would anyone  _have_ visions, or anything like that? The Force, as Master Skywalker had tried to explain to her, wasn’t  _that_  cruel.

But it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Or what she’d  _asked._

“Can you help me?” Rey said.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. No, I can’t. Not the way you want me to. The only advice I can give you is…as someone…someone very wise once told me, this path has been placed before you. The choice is yours alone.”

Something in the way he said it…

“You made bad choices before, didn’t you,” she said. “That’s why you’re hiding here.”

“I’m not hiding,” he protested, but without any real heat. “And…yes, I did.” He sighed again. “And, with help, I  _still_  found my way to my destiny, eventually. Maybe. Probably. There might have been two destinies, actually; it’s…hard to unravel, even now. But I took the wrong road there, one covered in fire and blood. And maybe—maybe it still would have taken me as long as it did to get where I needed to go, if I’d taken the other. And probably at least  _some_  of what I helped destroy, I wouldn’t have been able to save even if I’d been on the other side. A lot of it was too far along by the time I got involved, one way or the other. But there  _would_  have been less horror in the galaxy—a _lot_ less horror in the galaxy—if I had made better choices when I had the chance.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, after a beat. Because what else  _could_  she say, to all of that?

He shrugged. “Thank you,” he said. “But I didn’t tell you that because—I told you that because I want you to  _learn_  from my example. Pay attention to the road you’re on. Not where you think it’s leading. That’s the best advice I can give you, I think.”

She chewed that over for a minute, pulling her mind away from the awful specifics he was hinting at and focusing on what he meant for her to hear. “So…put another way, ‘make good choices in the short term, and let destiny sort itself out?’” she said. “That’s…that’s  _it?”_

“More or less,” he said, and smiled a little at her. “It doesn’t sound very helpful, I know. Especially when destiny is breathing down your neck and someone you trust is pointing you at the fire-and-blood road and telling you—but those are my problems, not yours.” He shook his head. “Think about it, at least? Maybe it’ll make sense at just the right moment to make a difference.”

“I guess,” she said.

“I hope,” he replied, then stood and stretched. “I’m glad you came, Rey. It’s nice to talk to someone who’s alive, and willing to listen.”

“Thanks?” she said, getting to her feet as well. “I think.”

“My problems, not yours,” he said, then studied her for a long moment.

She wondered what exactly it was that he saw, looking at her like that.

But before she could ask, he smiled again. “I think you’ll be all right,” he said. “Make good choices, Rey. And may the Force be with you.”

“Wh—”

She blinked, and she was—

Back in her ship, at the coordinates she’d pulled from Master Skywalker’s book, only Mortis was gone.

As if it had never actually been there.

As if she’d _dreamed_ the whole thing.

Except—her hair was still a little damp, from when she’d been out in the rain. And when she reached into her pocket…she found a couple of pallies, just like the one she’d eaten in the castle.

Along with a note, in barely-legible handwriting.

_Save one of these for Luke,_  it said.  _He used to love them, too._

She stared at it for a long moment. _“That’s_  the message you’re sending out with me?” she asked the empty sky, accusingly.

It didn’t answer, of course. Because that would be too easy.

She grumbled half a dozen swear words in as many languages. But…well, looking at the note again, as unhelpful as it was, it was still somehow the clearest hint she’d gotten all day.

_Go back to Master Skywalker. Be patient, and pay attention to the little details. You’ll get where you need to be in time._

She tossed one of the pallies back and forth, just like the stranger in the castle had done.

_Take each crossroads as it comes. Make good choices._

Well, however real it had all been, Rey had a lot to think about now, as she made her way back to Master Skywalker. Because, no, she hadn’t really gotten what she’d  _wanted_  from her trip to Mortis. But in the end, it hadn’t been a _total_ waste of time. Even if she still didn’t know where she was, exactly, let alone where she was _going,_ she had a vague map for the road ahead. And the stranger in the castle had told her—in a weird, backwards kind of way—how to _read_ it. Which was at least as important, in the long run.

She had a place to start, and a path to follow.

Until she found her next crossroads and made a choice.


End file.
